Basket-Case
by Tweaker1213
Summary: She didn't have much interest in him. At least not at first. But when her brother goes missing, he's the only one she can turn to. Who knew that more than just the wolf legends would be true. Paul/OC
1. Prologue - Babette

A/N:

**Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Basket-Case. This is my first time posting on this site so I hope it goes over fairly well. Just a forewarning that I don't entirely know my posting schedule so it could be a week or two before I can get the next chapter out. Also, side note, I don't have a beta. I edit this all myself. So if you would be so kind as to review to tell me what the hell I'm doing wrong or any information that I've jacked up, that would be amazing. **

**This is kind of AU, and I'm not even sure if the vampires are going to be making an appearance in this story. It takes place a few years after Breaking Dawn (or what would _be _Breaking Dawn. But since this is AU, I don't know. Anything could happen).**

**I'm basing this story off of one of the Quileute legends. I haven't been in the Twilight verse in a while to read any of the amazing fanfics so if you've already thought the idea up, sorry. Hopefully the plots will differ from each other. But since I've never read any with the legend I'm using, I'm assuming it will be slightly unique. But we all know what assuming can do to you. **

**First chapter is short, but the ones that follow will be much longer. This one is just to get you started.**

**This is rated M mostly just for Paul's potty mouth. Sorry if you were looking for smut, but believe me, I couldn't write a lemon scene to save my life. Well, I'm sure I could, but the amateur writer that is me would come out too much and you'd be thinking, "...No, just, no. That is sooo not right." It's just too awkward for me. **

_**DISCLAIMER for the whole story:**__**We all know I don't own Twilight. My first name isn't Stephenie, and my last sure isn't Meyer. Keep that in mind when you go to maybe complain about this story. The only thing I do own is Babette and her family. And possibly the plot, not entirely sure.**_

_**Apologies for the long authors note!**_

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**_*Babette's View*_**

**Prologue**

* * *

_"...-nother child has been reported missing in the North-West part of Washington. Six year old Amanda Jensen disappeared yesterday morning while playing at a park near her home. Witnesses describe nothing out of the ordinary and so far no evidence has been found of foul play. The parents of Amanda are asking for anyone with any kind of information to please come forward. This has been the ninth missing child in the last two weeks in the state of Washington. Richard and Hailey Slater, and Nicholas Banks from Olympia, Layla Littlesea from the La Push Native American Reservation, Christian Tuttle, Olivia Star, and Roger Searle from Seattle, Corey Stanley from Port Angeles, and now Amanda Jensen, also from Port Angeles. In regards to their cases, the police are still searching for any new evidence. If anyone has any information, please, call the the number at the bottom of the scr-..."_

I sighed, closed my eyes, and leaned my head against the flowery patterned back of the folding lawn chair. I sat just outside the propped open front door. The news continued on inside, the newscaster rambling on about the chance of gas prices rising. There was a click and the channel was changed.

Layla Littlesea. She had been one of the first gone missing two weeks ago from the elementary school playground that my own brother played on. At nine years old, she was in his grade. Hell, she was in his class. That could have been him.

For days the Littlesea family searched for Layla. They went door to door and handed out fliers around La Push. They were unnecessary. Everybody knew who everybody was. Everybody knew who she was. She was the dark haired little girl with hazel eyes. She played the lead in the school play two years in a row. She got her own picture book published from a story she had written in class. She worshiped her older brother Collin, following him around whenever she was allowed to tag along.

Collin was devastated when she couldn't be found. He came into the diner I worked at every few days with a few of his friends. When he sat in my section, I never asked him if there was any new news. He got enough hassle from the rest of the other customers pestering him with the same questions they had asked a few days before.

_Did they find her yet?_

_ Any new leads?_

_ What kind of person does this?_

_ I hope she's okay._

He looked haggard. Collins' eyes were always drowsy, and the dark circles that ringed them grew darker day by day. His hair was unkempt, his clothing wrinkled, and I swear I could see dirt smudges along the skin of his shins, like he had been roaming the woods looking for her. His parents weren't any better.

Each of them were given a free meal by the owner of the diner, Vince, every time they came in. Collin especially looked like he needed it. His friends might have teasingly complained every now and then about not getting their own free meal, but, for the most part, their table stayed solemn with short, soft conversations. Collin never spoke.

My eyes watered.

That could have been me slowly going catatonic.

And it still could.

I sent Barnibee off to school every day never knowing if he was going to come home or not. Everyone in the state was keeping a closer watch on their children. The school's weren't taking any chances with the students, seeing as two of them were grabbed from right under their noses. Recess had either been canceled or there were at least three or more parent volunteers out in the yard to watch the kids. If a school had decided to keep with the breaks, then after each bell rang heads were counted, names were called, and everyone was accounted for. For some, recess had been taken indoors to the gymnasium. Barni had complained about not getting much time to spend out on the monkey bars. After Layla went missing, his school had shortened recess and their lunch hour was cut in half.

I breathed deeply to quell the tears and rubbed at my face.

It wasn't just the elementary school age children that were going missing either. Two of the missing kids from Olympia, Richard and Hailey Slater, were fourteen. Twins. Christian Tuttle from Seattle was only two.

My other two siblings were close to those ages. Bebe had just turned seventeen. Braxton was fourteen months. I could lose any of the three or even all three at any time.

Inside the house the TV clicked off. The light reflecting off of the collage of photos pinned to the wall next to the front door dimmed. I quickly swiped the heels of my hands across my eyes just in time for the screen door to squeak open.

Bebe held it with one hand and leaned the opposite shoulder against the door frame. She yawned before telling me, "I put Braxton down and Barni's asleep on the couch. Do you want me to put him to bed or can you do it?"

I wearily shifted off the fabric lawn chair and stretched. I had too much stress for a twenty-one year old. Weren't these the years that were supposed to be the time of your life? Instead, I was raising three kids and distressing over whether I was going to see them again or not after dropping them off at school in the morning.

"I'll get him, Babes. You get to bed and I'll be in in a minute to put him down."

She smiled groggily and turned to go back inside. I left the chair where it was, knowing neither of my neighbors would steal it, but picked up the empty soda can that had been left on the ground from dinner.

As I opened the screen door back up, a wolf howled off in the distance. I paused to listen, waiting. A few moments later a second wolf joined the howling. And then a third. A fourth. Several more after that began their singing into the night. Their harmony rang across the trees, delving farther into the forest and across town.

Barni told me once that the wolves were protecting the reservation. That they weren't here to hurt us, but to help us. The legends that were told to us since we were toddlers were what kept his beliefs alive. Bebe had to quietly remind him that they hadn't helped Layla. That if they were here to protect us, then why hadn't they found the little girl and brought her home yet?

He had gone silent, a frown scrunching up his face. His response still haunted me, even after it being said a week ago, not long after she first went missing. Eyes cast down, his voice was so low we almost couldn't hear it, he voiced:

_"Maybe there's nothing left for them to bring home."_


	2. 1-1 Babette

A/N:

**So, I posted the prologue of this story last night and I realized that there really wasn't much to go on in ways of characterization, plot and what not. I decided to post the first real chapter today to give you all a chance to actually read a bit more than just a quick little few paragraphs that don't give you much info.**

**I wasn't expecting many (if any at all) reviews for the first chapter, but I was really hoping for at least one. Oh, well, I can understand. But I do wish I had a few to bounce off of for this author's note, because I feel like I'm talking to faceless wall people. Gah.**

**By the way, there's a derogatory term for Native Americans in this chapter and I mean no disrespect at all. It was only used because the character that speaks it is an asshole. And the rebuttal is a term for white trash living in the pacific northwest. Again, no disrespect.**

**Reminder that I do all the editing myself. No beta whatsoever has gone through this. Any mistakes are on me.**

**Paul's POV starts next chapter.**

**Anyways, please review to let me know this story isn't a complete failure, because that would really bring me down :/**

* * *

_***Babette's View***_

**Chapter One – Part One**

_Four Weeks Later_

* * *

I woke from a dead sleep, jolting up, gasping for breath and my heart beating a hundred miles a minute. The unwanted dreams of distant memories lingered at the edges of sleep. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes and peered through the darkness to the corner of the room where the dark wood stained crib stood. The sock monkey night light plugged into the outlet next to it gave a soft glow across the pale walls. There was a light stirring as the small body enclosed in the crib sighed in their sleep. Upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary, my heart slowed and my breath evened. I relaxed back down onto the soft sheets of my bed.

My eyelids were closed for only a few seconds before a weak rumbling came from the bedside table. Without looking, my hand reached out to grab for my phone. As soon as my fingers closed around the vibrating object, I opened my eyes and glanced at the Caller I.D.

Sighing, I flipped the phone open and eyed the silent crib. "This better be good, Bebe. If I hadn't had the phone on silent you could've woken Braxton up. Are you home yet?"

_"...Babs? This is- Is this Babs?" _Loud music filtered past the unknown male voice and into my ear.

Shifting my head against my pillow, I pulled the phone away to look at the Caller I.D. once more. My sister's name was still lit up on the screen.

A faint calling of, _"Hello? Are you there?"_ had me replacing the phone against the side of my head. "Who is this?"

It took him a minute to come up with a response. _"Uh, this is Seth Clearwater."_

Clearwater? Why did that name sound so familiar to me? As I kicked the heavy handmade quilt away from my body, my mind cleared enough to remember where I had heard the name before. A girl from my graduating class – Leah, I think – her last name had been Clearwater, hadn't it? Thinking the name through, a memory of a third boy coming into the diner with Collin Littlesea and Brady Fuller hit me.

Now knowing who I was speaking with, I asked, "What are you doing with Bebe's phone?"

_"I'm calling because something happened. She won't give us the number for her parents and instead told us to call Babs. Which, I guess, is you... You are her sister, aren't you?"_

I was in the middle of swinging my feet over the edge of the mattress and stretching when his words smacked into me like a freight train. "Is she okay? Where is she? Let me talk to her."

_"We're at First Beach and she's fine. Just a little banged u-"_

"Give my sister the phone," I demanded. I cradled the phone against my shoulder with my head and reached for a hoodie to cover my pj's with as I waited for the cell to be handed off to my sibling. Just as I finished pulling the sweatshirt over my head I heard labored breathing on the other end of the line.

_"Babs?" _Her voice was thick.

"Bebe, sweetie, are you alright?"

I waited with a bated breath. Ever since the missing children I was constantly worrying over the kids. But with there being no substantial evidence indicating where they might be, and no more having gone missing since Amanda Jensen, the town breathed somewhat easier. Without a doubt though, everyone was still grieving the vanished Layla Littlesea. The police force from both Forks and La Push continued to comb over the woods and what few security camera footage from gas stations to store fronts there were to find clues a month and a half later.

"..._No."_

"Tell me what's wrong." I was grabbing for a pair of gray knit slipper boots from under the bed as I spoke. I glanced at the still silent crib before slipping out the door and down the hallway.

_"I, uh, I went out with Ricky instead of the movies like I told you."_

Fucking Ricky. He was going to be the death of her.

"I figured you would. Now, what happened?"

_"Ricky brought me to a party. He wouldn't take me home when I wanted to get out of here an hour ago."_

I could tell by the tone of her voice that there was more.

I stubbed my toe on the corner of the couch. I had passed the entrance to the kitchen and had gone too far forward. I dropped the slippers and hopped up and down on one foot. Unsuccessfully holding back a mess of swear words that tore out of my mouth in the process. Grunting, I leaned back and slid my hand along the wall to find the light switch. After pointlessly searching for it for a few seconds and not finding it, I lowered both my foot and hand and remained in the dark.

"That's not everything, is it?"

A deep voice was murmuring near the microphone on my sister's side. I couldn't make out anything of what was being said. I waited, slipping my feet into the soft boots.

_"Ricky got a little rough."_

My breath hitched. "Did he hit you?"

_"Now, Babs, please don't-"_

_**"Did he hit you?"**_ I enunciated each word with a clenched jaw.

_"...Yes."_

"Son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath. "I'll be right there. Give me fifteen minutes. Tell whoever it is that you're with not to let you out of their sight. I don't want you left there alone. And tell them to try and keep Ricky nearby, I want to have a word with him." I hung up before she could argue. Throwing the cell phone onto the couch, I paced back down the hall.

Ever since Bebe started dating Ricky Stoddard, he'd been nothing but a pain in my ass. The first time I knew he was going to cause problems was when he convinced my somewhat naive sister that it was okay for him to take from the corner grocery store without paying because he knew the owners 'pretty well'. The second he knew he was going to get caught, he took off like a bat out of hell and left her to take the blame for it. Bebe was lucky that the employee – the owner's daughter – had been watching them and knew that she wasn't the real culprit. They didn't press charges.

After that, I had a little heart to heart with Ricky. For twenty minutes straight I informed him that if any harm ever came to my baby sister, whether if be from him or in circumstances involving him, he was going to get what's been coming to him for all of his indiscretions in the last seventeen years he'd been alive. And I would be the one dealing out the punishment. When I had threatened his manhood for the fourth time, I thought he knew how serious I was about it.

Guess I thought wrong.

My feet stopped just in front of the door opposite my bedroom. Leaning a hand on either side of the closed door I rested my head against the wood and took a deep breath. I tried to even my breathing. Getting riled up and frustrated before I knew the whole story wasn't going to help me any.

Rolling my shoulders, I tilted my head back and glared at the ceiling through the dark. If I was going to be leaving the house, I would need to take Braxton and Barnibee with me. I couldn't leave them alone. I _wouldn't_ leave them alone. Even if I were to only be gone for half an hour and they slept the whole time. Leaving them by themselves in times like these was not a smart thing to do. Just imagining them being taken while I was gone left me unsettled. I could also picture the look on my mother's face as she screeched at me if she ever learned that I had left her small children home alone. She may not want to participate in their lives all that much, but with any chance to chastise me and bring me down, she'd take it.

I would never hear the end of it.

As soon as I was calm, I slowly opened the door I had been fuming in front of for the past couple of minutes. I stumbled my way through the darkness, wishing that I had installed a new bulb in the overhead light after the old one had burned out a few days previous. I stepped on several hard plastic toys that had been left out the night before. Most likely they were Lego's. The pain in my feet added to the situation and I cursed any and all toy companies for manufacturing the torture devices in the first place. I waved my hand into the air to find the light source I knew to be next to the twin sized bed.

My fingers soon brushed the metal edge of the mushroom shaped lamp. It immediately came to life. I blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness of the light and gave my eyes a moment to adjust.

From where I was standing I could see Bebe's bed on the other side of the room, blankets mussed and her back pack open at the end of the bed. Her school books were spread out on the desk in the corner of the room and her hand-me-down laptop was closed beneath them. A large poster of the 10th Doctor from _Doctor Who_ was spread across the wall above the head of her bed, along with several photos of our family amongst magazine cutouts, doodles and neon flower wall decals.

Whereas Bebe's side of the room was full of colors so bright it would make your eyes bleed, Barni's side was full of darker tones. Posters of different types of birds littered the walls above his bed. His sheets were dinosaur related, pterodactyls flying every which way across the dark blue fabric. On top of his dresser was his ant farm filled with over fifty or so ants. Every so often we'd find one roaming the room and would have to _coax _it back in it's habitat as Barni would put it. Bebe preferred to squish them.

I had given them the master bedroom so they could have more room while I shared the smaller bedroom with Braxton.

My eyes finally adjusted and I moved to gently shake the body of my nine year old brother. "Barni, come on, buddy."

Barnibee turned over and blinked up at me sluggishly. I pulled his blanket off of him, revealing the _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ pajamas he had put on the night before.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go pick up Bebe and I can't leave you and Braxton here alone. I need to get you to the car, alright?"

He responded by raising his arms up. He knew the drill. We'd been doing it since he was seven. I hoisted him onto a cocked hip and he circled his arms around my shoulders. His head instantly lulled into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. I almost balked at the weight of his body.

"When did you get so big, Barnes?"

A soft snore answered me.

It took a couple more minutes to find my keys and coordinate Barni into the back seat of my beat up little Honda Civic. I rushed back into the house, scooped up my phone off the couch along the way, and went to the room I shared with my youngest brother. The toddler was completely out and I had no trouble gathering him, his blanket and his pacifier into my arms and then buckled into his car seat.

Swiftly, I swung myself into the driver's seat and started the engine. I turned up the heat just a bit to keep the slight chill of the night air away from my brothers. I dumped Braxton's pacifier and my cell phone into one of the two cup holders my car had to offer. As I began the trip to First Beach, I briefly toyed with the idea of calling someone to come watch the boys for me.

The moment the thought invaded my mind it was immediately blown to pieces by several fabricated grenades. There wasn't anyone for me to really call that I trusted enough to help me. I could've run over to my neighbor's, but I didn't think he would be up at this time of night and I knew he liked to get his beauty sleep almost more than Bebe did. And then, of course, there was my aunt. But Linda Krandle would start with the questions she always asked whenever she saw me:

_Where's your mother?_

_ How is she?_

_ Has she gotten any better?_

_ When can I come and visit?_

_ Is she sober yet?_

_ Has she gotten any kind of help?_

_ Does she want any?_

How was I supposed to tell her that I hadn't seen my own mother in over four months. Bebe was the only one who saw her on a regular basis. Sometimes going over to spend the night. On others it was her sneaking out to get away from her.

I didn't even want to go near the thought of possible calling my mother for help. That conversation would not end well. I could live at least one more day without her screaming in my ear about how much of a failure I was.

I would have to tackle this all on my own.

My mind had blanked, my hands and feet going over the motions of handling the car, and I arrived at the beach faster than I could have imagined. Parking, I peered through the windshield and could see a countless number of teenagers gathered around the one large bonfire and many small fires blazing in the sand. Turning the engine off, I pulled the keys from the ignition and put them in my hoodie pocket. I peeked into the back seat at my brothers. Barnibee was faintly snoring and Braxton had his thumb in his mouth. I opened my door, quickly got out, pushed down the power lock button, and then softly closed the door behind me.

I hesitated, not wanting to leave the boys by themselves. Eying all the human bodies in the nearby vicinity, I told myself that if someone were to make an attempt at breaking into the car, at least one good Samaritan would surely help out. I could only hope though.

The music blasting from the speakers of one of the cars I parked by pounded into my eardrums. The bass was so loud I could feel my ribcage vibrating with each deep beat. Scrutinizing the faces from where I was standing, I couldn't find my sister anywhere. I reluctantly shuffled towards the nearest bonfire in hopes that she would appear so that I could get the hell out of there.

Parties were not my thing. They weren't my thing when I was ten. They weren't my thing when I was fifteen. They are definitely not my thing now at the age of twenty-one. It could have just been me being anti-social, but the last one that I had been to was when I was eight. One of the girls had invited me and every other kid from class to her ninth birthday party. The invitation was decorated with glitter and little stick on balloons.

I walked the two miles just to get to her house, and I only went for the food. My mother hadn't had the money for groceries that week and we had been running low on everything that wasn't ketchup. I was starving and wanted to fill up on something that hadn't expired or wasn't a condiment.

The party was a glam/clown theme. Her parents had managed to find the prettiest girl clown (who had to drive down from Seattle) and she was dressed up in a purple and pink sequined dress and rainbow colored leggings.

Nobody had told me there was going to be a clown there. At first sight I had thrown up all of the pizza I had scarfed down. I purposefully avoided the rest of the party by hiding myself in the upstairs bathroom. Clowns scared the shit out of me when I was a kid. And throwing up everything I had eaten to survive for the next few days had infuriated me. After the clown was done with her act and had left, I was only able to sneak the last piece of cheese pizza out to carry home to a four year old Bebe.

My eyes searched the shadows that the glow from the fires couldn't reach. Nothing but a few natives from the Reservation standing on the far side of the fire. Their darker bodies mingled with the many pale faces from the town of Forks about ten miles down the road.

I, preferably, would rather have nothing to do with any of them. From what felt like the second I graduated high school, I moved out of the house I grew up in in La Push and into a small two bedroom house at the edge of my home town. I stopped letting myself get carried away in the affairs of others and cut out just about every association I had with the little friends I had. The few that I had obtained, along with a boyfriend, stayed in touch after high school. Eventually though, after gaining custody – at least to my mother and I – of the kids, I soon fell out of touch with all of them. I stopped returning their calls because I was too busy working a full time job and taking care of my three siblings – one of them a newborn. They eventually stopped calling and probably moved onto bigger and better things; Like college or marriage. From the Chatty Kathy's at the diner, I knew my ex-boyfriend was married in Oregon with a little boy on the way.

I glimpsed a splash of canary yellow amidst the dark skin of the natives. Raising onto my toes to look above heads, I spotted my baby sister in her bright jacket slouched down into herself. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her knees, her head down, and I could see her shoulders shaking. Hurrying closer, I could just barely hear her muffled sobs among the chatter.

Scrambling through the sand, I had to contort my body this way and that to even get within ten feet of my sister. Someone fell into me when I was two yards away. Their hands pulled at my hoodie, fingers fumbling to keep a firm grip on my sweatshirt to hold themselves up. The keys I had put into the front pocket of the hoodie jangled loudly. Frustrated beyond belief, I shoved the person's hands away.

"I am so not in the mood for your shit right now, kid. _Back off._"

Bebe's head snapped up at my irritated tone of voice. The crowd shifted and she saw me just as I pushed away the boy who had stumbled face-first into my chest. Tears traced tracks down her cheeks and she wiped at them while she struggled to get to her feet. One of the boys standing next to her gripped her elbow to help her up.

I pushed my way around the last two teens and Bebe fell into my arms with a new wave of tears. Her sobs grew louder. I ran my hand over her short hair to soothe her.

"It's okay, Babes. It's all right, I'm here."

Her arms circled my waist and her face rested where, not even twenty minutes ago, Barni had snuggled into. Bebe attempted to speak, but her words were so garbled that I couldn't make out what she was trying to say. She did that when she cried. Because when she cried, she cried hard. Getting her to talk straight was like telling a newborn they better be potty trained by the time they can sit up on their own. It just doesn't happen.

"Shh, it's okay. Settle down." She tried to push herself more into me. Laying a kiss to the side of her head, I zeroed in on the two young men positioned where Bebe had been sitting. "Anybody want to tell me what the hell happened?"

They exchanged glances, but said nothing.

Looking to the smaller of the two, I stared at him and waited. The more time that passed, the more uncomfortable he became. I recognized him immediately now that I was more awake and had seen him face to face. Seth Clearwater. The shape of his dark eyes and the roundness of his cheeks reminded me of his sister. Just as I thought, he _was_ the one who always came in with Collin and Brady. His smile always lit up whichever table they sat at, but his attempts at cheering up his friend proved pointless. Collin hadn't gotten any better.

My piercing gaze finally got to him. He cracked.

"Are you Babs?"

I raised an eyebrow. "It's Babette to people I don't know. But yes, considering I have a bawling girl in my arms, I would assume I'm Babs."

Seth looked down sheepishly. The corner's of his friends' lips rose for a fraction of a second before straightening. Him, I didn't know. He was one of the few of their little gang who hung out at the only other roadside diner in town. All I knew was that him and a buddy of his liked to wreak havoc on the tourists we occasionally got.

The smaller of the two scratched his nose and said, "We were in the area when we heard a commotion-"

"As if a party at two in the morning, with what looks like enough alcohol to bring down an elephant, isn't a big commotion."

"-in the woods," he faltered for a second. "We had just left the party, alright. We were heading home."

"You sure? With the way you two are dressed, I would have thought you were bumpin' uglies out there in dem woods." My eyes skimmed down their ruffled hair, shirtless chests, torn shorts, dirty bare feet, and then back up to their widened eyes.

"N-no, that's not what this looks like," Seth sputtered.

The unknown boy looked at me, his eyes running a quick scan up and down my body. His gaze lingered a little longer than I liked on the scars around my lips. I sucked them in self-consciously. "And you coming out here in the middle of the night in only a large sweatshirt is any better. What were you doing? Having a little 'me' time?"

"I sleep naked, this was all I had on hand."

They both choked and were at a loss for words. I could feel Bebe's shaking slowly subside. My half of the conversation was lighthearted and it was starting to calm her.

"Pervs," I muttered under my breath. I lifted one side of my baggy hoodie to show off the blue Pokemon boxers and green tank top underneath. "I didn't have any time to get all dressed up, sorry."

"Look, this is Jared, and I'm Seth. I'm the one who called." Seth stepped forward as he made introductions. The name Jared was ringing bells in my head. He was starting to look more and more familiar to me somehow. Even with everyone knowing everyone in this town, I still had trouble putting names to faces and remembering where I'd seen someone. "I know Bebe from school, so when I saw some guy yelling at her, I decided to step in. That Stoddard kid hit her before me, Jared or Paul could get to them."

At the mention of Bebe's boyfriend I glanced at the surrounding area. All I saw was a mass of inebriated and somewhat sober teenagers dancing and socializing. A couple were stumbling away from the fires towards the parked cars alongside the beach. I had to have faith that they all had designated drivers to get them home. I didn't want to have to worry about someone crashing into my car full of precious cargo on the way back to the house.

"Where is the little bastard at anyways?"

"Paul's got him over there," Jared told me, his hand absentmindedly waving in the direction of the trees. "They're both getting a little crabby, so the faster we can get this over with, the better. Paul's never liked Ricky and although I know he wants to do it, I have a feeling he wouldn't want to go to prison for murder. He's too pretty, they'd eat him alive. Bebe mentioned you wanted to talk to him?"

I nodded, my amusement from his comment about a pretty Paul momentarily distracting me. I gently pulled away from Bebe. She looked up at me and the bruise rapidly gaining color on her right cheek made my jaw set.

"I need you to go wait in the car."

"But, Babs-"

"Don't argue with me. You're lucky you're still not permanently living with mom, 'cause she'd beat you black and blue if she found out you had lied. I'm a little more lenient and I expected it, so don't start. Barni and Braxton are asleep in the backseat and the keys," I wrangled them from the sweatshirt pocket and handed them over to her. "Are here. Doors are locked. Turn up the heat when you get in, alright, it's a bit chilly out."

She took a deep breath and tipped her head in acknowledgment. She warily contemplated the teens swerving around the large mass of the two young men beside us. They seemed to take up all of the free space in the area. "Can someone come with me?"

I shifted to look at Seth. He instantly perked up. "I'll come with you, Bebe."

"Good, now go. I don't want the boys alone any longer than they need to be." I kissed her forehead and nudged her in the direction of the car. "It's that way."

As soon as Seth and my sister were on their way, I turned to Jared. "Let's get this over with."

He led me back past the closest roaring bonfire – the crowd readily parting due to his large size. I think I may have to keep him around. He could probably scare the candy off of a four year old with just a look – and to to the edge of the treeline. There were only a few pale faces left in this stretch of woods. From what I could see anyway. We made our way over to where a broad shouldered male had his hand gripping the back of Ricky Stoddard's neck, his eyes glaring holes into the back of the teen's head.

The harshness of the glare made me shiver. Ricky must have really pissed this guy off. The boy went a shade or two paler at the sight of another large Native American. As I came into view from behind Jared, his whole body sighed in relief.

"Thank god, Babette. You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

My light eyes flicked up to Paul's as his dark brown orbs lifted at the sound of Ricky's voice. He froze, his lips parting in a silent sigh. I forced myself to withhold the shudder trying to gain access across my body. There was a light tingling under the skin at the back of my neck. I had to restrain myself from lifting a hand to scratch at it. As he took a deep breath, my eyes lingered down over his strong jaw to his bare chest. What was it with these boys and not wearing clothes appropriate for the climate.

Not that I was complaining or anything. If they all continued to look like they did, all hard lines and firm muscles, they could run around half naked any time they wanted.

Paul's grip tightened on Ricky's neck. The seventeen year old grimaced and pushed at Paul's hand.

"Can you please get him to let go, it freakin' hurts."

Tearing my eyes away from Paul, I regarded Ricky with a cool hostility. He either didn't notice or didn't seem to care. "Let him go."

In a flash, Paul let the kid go and then stepped over to where Jared stood to my left. His attention never left the space between Ricky and I as he shouldered Jared aside and stood closest to me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jared elbow the taller of the two in the ribs. Paul elbowed back just as hard, if not harder, and Jared cringed while rubbing his side.

"Thank you! I don't know why, but they just decided to jump me while me and Bebe were hanging out. I don't know where she is and I'm worried about what these _Buffalo Jockey's_ have done to he-"

Ricky didn't get to finish. I let my knee get up close and personal with his family jewels. He dropped down, one of his hands resting on the ground to balance his weight while the other cupped his manhood through his tight jeans. He let out a squeaky whine and coughed.

Lie to me, that was fine. I already knew everything that would come out of his mouth would be one. But sling racial slurs at what I considered my people, and you were going to get it. I was offended for them and for me, being half Quileute myself.

I crouched down low and gripped the lower half of his pale face. My fingers dug harshly into his cheeks. "That's bullshit, Ricky. Both you and I know it is. What did I tell you when you first started hanging out with Bebe?"

His voice was high pitched as he spoke, "That you would knee me in the n-nads if I ever hurt her."

"Right, and what just happened?"

"You broke my balls." He coughed once more.

"Exactly. I guess that twenty minute lecture didn't hit home quite as hard as I thought. You hurt my sister, Ricky. You hit her. That is a _big_ no-no. You _never_ hit a girl. Especially one with an elder sibling who would kick anybody's ass that harmed her." His features were squished, my fingers pinching the lower half of his face harder. "If I ever see, or even _hear_ about you laying a hand on another girl, I'm going to come find you and cut your dick off with a rusted butter knife. Then I'm going to shove it down your throat for you to choke on. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ye-yes."

"Good." I let go of his face and stood up, making a gesture to the two men behind me. "Just be glad I haven't told these two to get their licks in. Especially after hearing you call _us_ 'Buffalo Jockeys', you _Moss Eater_. You'd probably be much worse off than a few hours of crotch pain."

I turned to see Paul grinning maliciously at Ricky and Jared smirking back at me. Taking a step back toward the glowing bonfires, I heard Ricky stagger to his feet as he got up off his knees.

"She deserved it, the cock tease."

I froze, his tone swarming my ears. Someone, either Jared or Paul, muttered, "Oh, shit."

I saw red. I swung around and let my fist fly, managing to land an almost perfect punch right to Ricky's nose. All four of us heard the crunch of bone breaking; saw the flow of blood gushing from his nostrils.

"Yeah, well, you deserved that."

"_Fuck_!_"_

I left him bleeding, groaning, and whining about the cops. I swear I thought I heard Paul growl as the words, "Assault on a minor," passed Ricky's lips.

Giving Paul an odd look. I turned back to look at Ricky. One of his hands tried to stem the flow of red raining down his face while the other scrambled for the cell phone shaped object in his pocket.

"And what will they say when we file a report about you assaulting your girlfriend? We've got the injury to prove it."

Ricky halted his movements. His eyes uneasily darted between me and something over my shoulder. Finally, he grinned haughtily. The blood draining from his nose and into his mouth made his teeth and lips red. It was gruesome looking. "Bebe wouldn't do that to me. She loves me."

I could tell that the smirk I sent him made him start to doubt himself. To end this, I leaned forward as if to share a secret. "Wanna bet?"

His grin fell.

As I left, over my shoulder, I yelled, "And you can consider this my sister breaking up with you, you asshole!"

Ignoring the heavy footsteps behind me, I avoided every obstacle in my path. I wanted to get back to my car as fast as possible. I did not want to be here anymore. If I stayed any longer, I might just take a detour back to Ricky and break his nose even further. They'd have to send him to a hospital beyond county lines just to fix it.

"Hey, is your hand okay?"

Startled, my eyes shot to the left as I stepped over a fallen log. Jared grinned down at me, gesturing to my hand. "I expect it to be bruised by the time I get up in the morning. Doesn't hurt as bad as I thought it would, though. Probably just the adrenaline. Not too bad for my first time actually punching someone, yeah?"

"Really? Where did you learn to punch like that then? You got him right in the nose," he inquired.

"Um... boyfriend."

A loud animalistic snarl from just behind us made me jump and look over my shoulder. My steps hesitated as I noticed Paul's behemoth frame nowhere in sight. I frowned as Jared continued on as if nothing had happened.

"What happened to your friend?"

Jared glanced back and shrugged uneasily. "Don't know. He does that sometimes."

I picked up the pace to get back to his side. "What, he just disappears like that and nothing's wrong?"

"With him, who knows." Jared's words might have said that he didn't know what was up with his friend, but his stiff body language told me a different story.

He didn't say anything else of the matter, and although I was curious, I let it be after seeing his shoulders stiffen.

It took us a few minutes to make it through the crowd of slowly dwindling teenagers. We watched, while trudging past, as a scrawny boy tripped in the sand and almost took a header into the flames of a bonfire. Jared had taken a step towards him and if two of his buddies hadn't reached for the back of his shirt before he landed in it, the big guy probably would have easily helped out. I was pretty sure the kid's eyebrows were going to look singed for a while.

Finally, we made it through and I could see Seth leaning against the driver's side door of my car. His gaze was glued in fascination to something off in the distance. My eyes flit in that direction before rolling as I caught sight of two feminine figures making out against a tree in the dark.

The car that had been playing the loud bass thumping music earlier had disappeared. Another had taken its place down the road. I was just glad there was some semblance of quiet in the vicinity of my car so that my family could sleep in peace.

When we got close enough, Seth shifted and turned his attention to watch us walk towards him. He jolted away from the car when he realized who we were. His eyes nervously shot from us to the girls.

Jared gave him a sly smile. "Having fun?"

Seth cleared his throat and promptly tried to change the subject. "Where's Paul?"

"He died," I deadpanned, coming to a stop before him.

Jared sent me a disgruntled look, which I ignored. "He took off."

Seth tilted his head, eyes worried.

I could just barely see Jared's head move out of the corner of my eye, one of his hands motioning at something in my direction. The second I looked at him he sheepishly lifted an arm to rub at the back of his neck. Turning back to Seth, I saw that his eyes had widened and his mouth dropped open.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

He cleared his throat again. "Nothing. Where's Ricky?"

Not fooled by his nonchalance, I eyed him as I answered, "Hopefully in the midst of dying."

Seth's eyes flicked to Jared curiously.

"She landed a really nice punch to his face. I heard bones break. He was gushing blood and his pride wounded when we left him."

The younger boy grinned at the picture it left in his mind.

I glanced into the vehicle behind him. "Bebe asleep?"

He turned to look through the glass while Jared swiveled his head back and forth, searching the trees. For what, I wasn't sure.

"Well, if she's not then she's pretty close. I saw her head nod off a few times before jolting back up."

"Cool... Listen, thanks for, y'know, calling me to come and get her."

Seth smiled brightly at me. How in the world could he be so awake this early in the morning. It had to be going on three o'clock by now. Then again, he was a teenager. He probably stayed up this late all the time playing video games.

I opened the car door and just before I got in, I had a thought run across my mind. I had finally remembered where I had seen Jared before. Blinking at him, I asked, "Your last name wouldn't happen to be Cameron, would it?"

He shrugged, a slightly bewildered look crossing his face. "Yeah, why?"

"I think you're dating my cousin. Kim Krandle?"

Instantly his eyes lit up and a goofy grin erupted on his lips. "I am? I mean," he cleared his throat. "I am."

I shuffled my feet. "She's a good kid. Tell her hi for me, will you. I haven't been around to see her in a while."

"She's actually in Seattle for the next couple of days, but when she gets back I'll be sure to do that."

After kicking the sand off of my slippers, I slid into my car. When I next looked out the open door to tell the boys goodbye, Jared and Seth were already moving away. The defined shape of their shoulders was the last thing I saw of them before they disappeared into the darkness. I closed the door and settled back into the seat. Rubbing at my face, I glanced at the glowing numbers on the stereo. I was right, it was almost three in the morning. I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut and rested my forehead on the steering wheel. I had to be up sometime around nine to drop Bebe and the kids off at my mother's house for a scheduled visit before heading over to Emily Young's house to give her the birthday present she had ordered for her mother months ago. I also had to make a stop at the store for groceries if we wanted to eat during the upcoming week. The rest of the day was going to be spent helping Barnibee with the homework he hadn't finished the night before and doing a little yard work if the weather turned out nice.

My hand was already beginning a non stop throbbing.

Tomorrow was going to either be an awesome or a troublesome day. I had a feeling it was going to be the latter.


	3. 1-2 Paul

A/N:

**Alright, this chapter right here is Paul's view of how things went down last chapter. I'm going to be going back and forth between the POV's each chapter so you get an insight onto what was going on from both parties. Although it won't be the exact whole chapter repeated, just some of the conversations and actions, as you'll be able to tell from Paul's view.**

**I sure hope I at least got him somewhat into character. I'm just gonna say right now, the wolves might be slightly OOC. Get that out of the way and you can't yell at me that there's something wrong with how one of them acts later on in the story.**

**Lastly, I want to thank **theworldwasgone **for my first review! And also to those of you who favorited and followed Basket-Case. I'm glad you think this story deserves a chance, and that you liked it.**

**Please review, let me know how I'm doing. Tell me you hated it, tell me you loved it. It doesn't matter the outcome, I want to know what you, the reader, thinks how I'm doing. You never know, it might help me get the next chapter out faster ;)**

* * *

**[Paul's View]**

**Chapter One – Part Two**

* * *

The girl was straight up bawling. Tears running down her face, loudly sobbing, her yellow clad arms rising every few minutes to wipe at her runny nose. Her knees were drawn up, her chest heaving, and her syllables so far mutilated from the English language none of us were able to understand a word of what was coming out of her mouth. She was almost having a full blown panic attack.

All because Seth had asked her what her parent's phone number was.

I cringed down at her. I couldn't help it. She was an ugly crier. Every time she tried to breathe in through her nose I could hear snot being slurped down the back of her throat. Nothing like a phlegm Slurpee to get a guy's attention. So attractive.

Along with her ugly crying, the bruise forming over the right side of her face looked nasty. If I hadn't seen that Stoddard kid backhand her firsthand, I would have though he had rammed her face first into the trunk of a tree a few dozen times. Even though my dad had beat it into me that hitting women was wrong, I had to admit, the kid was pretty fuckin' strong for such a scrawny little human boy that wore girl jeans.

I had easily been able to recognize her due to Seth having recently thought about her while phased during our patrol. She was in a couple of his classes at the local high school. Seth always pictured her when he was trying to do his English homework from memory during patrol. They always got paired up whenever there was a group project assigned to the class. I got tired of listening to him put her on repeat as she made her feeble attempts to teach him anything so they could get through their work.

Anyone who knew Seth, which was everyone on the reservation, knew that he loathed English class. He might have liked the teacher to a degree, but he hated the homework that was given. So everyone knew that he didn't care for poetry, plays, or anything of the grammar related variety. Apparently this girl was smart enough to figure out that if she wanted a half decent grade in English, then she had to do all the work herself. Seth wasn't going to be of much help to her. He had gotten two B's and an A on Lit projects in the last month alone because of her. Sue's been so proud of her baby boy.

None of us had the nerve to tell the woman that it was because this chick was doing all the work while her son sat back and napped the whole time they got together. Not even Leah wanted to see her brother get his ass chewed out by their mother. Even if he was a protector of the tribe, she would make him redo every single assignment all the while demanding for Mr. Reid – the English teacher – to give Seth more homework.

We all knew he was harboring a major crush on the girl. He claimed he was just using her for her intelligence to get through high school. The excuse was bullshit, just sayin'.

Right this second, I didn't think Bebe Noland was all that smart. Instead of staying close to the crowds of teenagers on First Beach and getting plastered enough to drunk dial some random loser for a ride home, she had to take off and isolate herself with the one asshole I wouldn't recommend anyone's daughter being alone with.

This was the reason we were standing near one of the smaller bonfires, watching the intoxicated children as they attempted their own form of mating dance. Instead of patrolling the woods for a sign of Collin's younger sister, I was stuck frowning down at this sniveling little girl as she sucked back more snot.

My time could have been better spent running after whatever had made that scent of something almost sickly sweet, like burning candy. It had first appeared just before Layla's disappearance. The trail had gone cold, rain had completely eradicated whatever chance we had at finding it again. At first we thought it had been a bloodsucker that had taken Layla, but after taking a whiff of that candy smell, we knew it couldn't be a vampire. Whatever emitted the smell had recently resurfaced. It was all over the woods and near a few of the houses in town, including Embry's.

After coming across the young couple hidden away in the trees a few yards from the party, and hearing the frightened whimper of a female, the scent was no longer our top priority. An immediate threat to one of our people was. Really, Bebe was just a half-breed, her father being white while her mother was a full blooded Quileute. She was still considered one of us.

Seth crouched low next to the girl, her bright pink cell phone clasped in one hand. The other was nervously running through his wild hair. He apprehensively looked between Jared, me, the phone, and the bawling teenager.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my bare chest. He really needed to man the hell up. A little girl's tears was nothing to be scared of. Of course, this little girl's sobbing was slightly disturbing, but it was nothing to be frightened of.

Jared knelt next to the two and continuously ran his palm soothingly over the quivering girl's back. He'd at least had plenty of practice with crying women. I loved the girl like a sister, but Kim cried over some stupid shit.

Like _Titanic_. Yes, Jack sacrificed himself and stayed in the water to keep Rose alive because of his love for her. What Kim should have been crying over was how much of a selfish bitch Rose was that she couldn't just scoot over so they could both balance on the damn door and live. Or at least alternate floating on the door. Bitch coulda done something. After being forced to watch it with the girls, you can damn well tell I had something to say about it. They didn't invite me to movie nights anymore when chick flicks were involved.

"Bebe, I really need to know who to call. We all hitched a ride with friends so we can't take you home ourselves," Seth said as he leaned his head lower to try and see around her arms.

Well, if by friends he means the furry mammals waiting to burst out from under our skin, then yes, we most definitely hitched a ride.

Bebe raised her watery eyes and attempted to control her breathing. "M-my sister. Call my sister."

Now we're getting somewhere.

Scrolling through the names in the phone's contacts list, Seth realized that he either didn't remember or didn't know the name of Bebe's sister. He continued to look through them, his brow furrowing. I assumed he was looking for that one contact labeled 'mom' or 'dad'. Finding neither, Seth hesitated.

The girl wiped at her cheeks with the heels of her palms. "Call Babs."

I snorted, remembering back to when I was a kid and still watched cartoons. A cartoon character from the 90's, Babs Bunny, popped into my head.

Seth brightened and pushed the up button several times. His brow furrowed deeper than before as he searched the names. "There's no Babs here, Bebe."

"Try _Evil Overlord_."

Another snort, this time from Jared. I was still amused by the thought of this chick having the same name as a cartoon character. I wonder if Bebe had a brother named Buster?

Seth's face formed a bewildered look as he found the name Bebe had given him and murmured under his breath, "I can't believe that's actually in here."

Seth hit send and put the phone up to his ear. Jared waited patiently, although his demeanor stiffened as a few of the partying teens wandered a little too close. The glare they received sent them all running. I turned away from their scurrying forms with a smirk and focused back on Seth. The three of us could hear the ringing clearly under the loud music.

The voice that answered the phone was soft and raspy and sounded like they had just woken up. It sent a jolt down my spine.

_"This had better be good, Bebe, if I hadn't had the phone on vibrate you could've woken Braxton up. Are you home yet?"_

"...Babs? This is- is this Babs?" Seth stuttered.

We listened for a response and heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Seth quickly glanced at the screen to see if the call had been disconnected before rambling out, "Hello? Are you there?"

Immediate comeback. _"Who is this?"_

Seth looked at Jared, who shrugged, and then looked to me, who also gave a one shouldered shrug. The teen, finding us no help at all, answered with, "Uh, this is Seth Clearwater."

The rustle of fabric brushing against skin. _"What are you doing with Bebe's phone?"_

"I'm calling because something happened. She won't give us the number for her parents," here Bebe whimpered and pulled her knees further into her chest. If she pulled them in any farther she'd just be a torso with feet. "-and instead told us to call Babs. Which, I guess, is you... You are her sister, aren't you?"

With these words, the woman's voice hardened with concern. _"Is she okay? Where is she? Let me talk to her."_

Seth promptly muttered, "We're at First Beach and she's fine. Just a little banged u-"

_"Give my sister the phone," _she demanded.

Seth flinched and pulled the phone away, straightening his arm to give it to Bebe. The shaking girl received the cell phone clumsily, almost dropping it before settling it against her ear.

"Babs?"

_"Bebe, sweetie, are you okay?"_

We waited. Bebe hadn't said much since shit had not just hit the fan, but smacked the hell out of it. Bebe's face being the fan and Ricky's fist being the shit. Ricky had, without any hesitation or worry, taken off after we'd come into view and realized we had seen what had happened, leaving Bebe alone with three strange men. Nice one, dude. We could've been serial rapists and instead of being somewhat conscientious to her needs, he decides to be a douchebag boyfriend and take off. I mean, yeah, we stopped him from beating on her even more, but that didn't mean he knew she was safe with us. Bebe had just sunk to the ground crying until Seth had moved towards her to ask if she was okay. After moving her closer to one of the bonfires, surrounded by people, he'd found her cell phone in the pocket of her bright yellow jacket.

Bebe peeked up at Seth. "...No."

_"Tell me what's wrong."_

"I, uh, went out with Ricky instead of the movies like I told you," Bebe didn't even falter.

_"I figured you would."_ Now I'm going to take a guess and say that this girl must sneak around with this jerk, on average, about three times a week to get a reaction like that. _"Now, what happened?"_

"Ricky brought me to a party. He wouldn't take me him when I wanted to get out of here an hour ago."

Not the whole truth to what happened after he told her no, but at least she was on the right track.

We heard something slam against an object hard and then the woman's voice started swearing quietly. Jared and I grinned at a few of the choice words she used. The tips of Seth's ears reddened.

_"That's not everything, is it?" _Babs croaked.

Bebe shifted to her left. Jared murmured into her ear, "She needs to know. It'll only make it worse if she doesn't know when she comes to get you and sees the bruise."

She gave a slight nod. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her mind trying to find the words to speak. "Ricky got a little rough."

_"Did he hit you?"_

"Now, Babs, please don't-"

_**"Did he hit you?"**_ Her voice was steeled and I could tell her jaw was clenched.

"...Yes."

_"Son of a bitch. I'll be right there. Give me fifteen minute. Tell whoever is is that you're with not to let you out of their sight. I don't want you left there alone. And tell them to try and keep Ricky there, I want to have a talk with him._

The dial-tone signaled that the _Evil Overlord_ had hung up before Bebe could even reply.

She hit end and slid the phone closed. Jared got to his feet to stand beside me while Seth moved to sit next to his classmate. She wearily looked up and mumbled, "Don't 'spose any of you know where Ricky went?"

My eyes scanned the crowd as Jared asked Bebe if someone was coming to pick her up for appearances sake. We'd heard the whole conversation, but she didn't need to know that. Someone was upchucking all over his date's shirt, a couple were making out in in the sand, and there- I found Ricky standing near the treeline, a thin silver cell phone up to his ear. "Got 'im."

Jared straightened and turned in the direction I nodded my head in. "Good, now go get him and bring him over here."

Before I could protest at being the one to go get the little turd, Bebe whined deep in her throat and clenched her eyes closed. Her sobs started back up.

Jesus, not this again.

I grunted in aggravation. I harshly whispered into my best friend's ear, "How 'bout I just keep the creep over there for a little while."

Jared conceded, allowing me to stride towards Ricky. There was a shuffle in the sand behind me and I heard his murmured tone as if he were standing right next to me. "Just make sure you don't break anything. We don't need Sam on our asses for injuring a human. You got me?"

I waved impatiently over my shoulder to indicate that I'd heard him. Ricky became restless and I hadn't even gotten close enough to be the cause of his distress. I needed to change that. I heard him say his goodbyes as I got closer. He looked both left and right as he hung up the cell phone. Catching a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, his body stiffened.

I smirked. Ricky's breath hitched and he quickly turned his back on me. Throwing me a glance over his shoulder, he hastily shoved his phone into one of the pocket's of his skin tight jeans and began walking through the trees further away from the party-goers. Big mistake.

This kid was the ultimate asshole. The resident bad boy of Forks. Every town's got one. He stole from local stores, vandalized school property, and was basically a manwhore. The pack only knew of his antics because he had begun branching out to include La Push in his illegal activities. Not that whoring was illegal. Prostitution was, but he wasn't being paid for his douchebaggery.

Every few weeks, when it was warm enough, there would be a small get together or a raging party down at First Beach. Each time one of the pack patrolled past during these parties, Ricky had been found fooling around with a person of the opposite sex out in the woods. Just about every single one of those times ended with any bystanders breaking up a fight between him and the girl's boyfriend. After a few knocks to the head, he still hasn't learned his lesson. And this time he'd done it to one of our own.

I would just love to be able to beat the ever living shit out of him just once in my lifetime. He annoyed the fuck out of me every time I saw him. Sometimes even a mention of his name on a gossips lips made me want to tear something apart.

He was one of those guys who wore super tight skinny jeans – _girl jeans_, damn it – and yet couldn't wear them right. They hung right off his ass and let his boxers hang out. He obviously didn't know that the trend had originally started in prison as a sign to let other inmates know that they were willing to have sex without letting the guards know. If he ever got caught stealing and was sent to jail, I'd be the first to send him a post card congratulating him on having his virginity taken. Hopefully it's by some large, hairy, bald guy with a penchant for rough loving on young, virgin ass.

"Oh, Ricky," I crooned. "You and me need to have a little chat."

He expressed his feelings for my idea with a middle finger and a, "Fuck off."

Oh, yeah, Ricky Stoddard was going down.

* * *

The death threats shouldn't have surprised anyone who knew me, and yet I was still receiving glares from Jared as I spoke them. Okay, maybe telling the kid I was going to cut his dick off, saute it, and then shove it down his throat was a little much. I was having to much fun to care.

What really surprised me was that he hadn't pissed his pants yet. Sure, I think he whimpered at least once, and he was absolutely terrified that I was going to bite his fingers off one by one, but he hadn't let his bladder loose.

I gave him a little credit. If someone had told me they were going to flay me down to the bone, roast my flesh over an open fire, and then eat it, I would have at least gagged. He managed to keep his dinner down and his sphincter tight. Good on him.

I was almost disappointed to hear the feminine voice comforting the still bawling Bebe. At least that was one thing I wouldn't have to listen to ever again. Hopefully. Her crying was starting to grate on my last nerve. More than the intoxicated teenagers partying on the beach.

The only thing more annoying than intoxicated teens and crying girls was the smell of this kid. It was almost like he had bathed himself in that_ Axe _body spray for men. The scent overpowered the smell of nature surrounding us. I gagged more than once.

Ricky made an attempt to escape. I tightened the grip I had on the back of his neck. He squirmed and rolled his shoulders.

"What the hell are we waiting for?" He grumbled.

"We have to wait for the guillotine to arrive. Seth has one stashed in his shed and he went to get it."

"Bullshit. Seth's the little one, right? He does not have one of those things in his garage, it would stink the place up. What're you gonna do? Drown me in shit?"

It took me a moment to comprehend that he didn't understand sarcasm very well. Then it took me another moment to fully grasp what he'd said. He didn't even know what a guillotine was. This was fucking priceless.

"That would be a _latrine_, more commonly known as an outhouse or bathroom, dumbass. I'm talking about a _guillotine_. Ya know, the one that slices your head clean off... Although, drowning you in shit might not be so bad. Having to smell the stink over your cologne would almost be worth it."

Ricky swallowed hard. I could hear the lump get stuck in his throat. If I didn't hate this kid right now, he'd be a major riot.

"Look, fucktard-" Ooo, a nickname. How awesome. "Just let me go. You're obviously not going to do anything with me so why are we even still here?"

I chanced a look towards Jared through the trees. He peeked over at me, his main focus on the girl laying a kiss to Bebe's forehead. I knew he could hear me. "Little shit's getting brave. My buddy better hurry before I decide to just tear out your intestines right now."

Ricky squelched any and all retorts that he might have had.

A faint, "Let's get this over with," was heard.

I peered at the crowd, just barely making out the bare legs of a female alongside Jared's long stride ambling into the trees. Something at the back of my mind was telling me to keep my eyes on those feminine legs. To not let them out of my sight.

"Better be nice, Rickster. This is probably the one and only chance you're going to get where you're not punished as badly for you're dirty deeds."

Ricky scoffed. "Yeah, sure."

Glaring at the back of his head. I bit back a growl that fiercely wanted to be released.

Jared's heavy footsteps and the female's lighter ones grew closer. Ricky's muscles tensed for a brief second before relaxing. He sighed in relief.

"Thank god, Babette. You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

My eyes lifted and something ruptured in my head. It collided with the edges of my skull, desperately trying to claw its way out and make itself known. Instinct made me want to reach out and snatch this exquisite creature and hide her away from the rest of the world. It told me to horde this precious possession like a dragon would it's treasure; ferociously. Because that's what she was. Except all of the diamonds, gold and priceless jewels on the Earth couldn't compare to her.

With just one look – one tiny little glimpse into her eyes – that was it. I was a goner. Whatever in the universe connecting me to the ground was shattered. I was left flying in midair. I could have sworn my stomach had jumped into the back of my throat, as if I were riding a nerve wracking roller coaster. In one miniscule second, that shattered thing began to thread itself back together. Only this time it was in a new direction. It twisted and braided itself tightly until it was back in one solid, unbreakable bond and secured to my new lifeline. To the one thing that could keep me living.

My imprint.

I had never thought of myself as being the imprinting type. What with me not knowing how to do my own laundry and having the tendency to make up gory death threats at the drop of a hat. But whoever in their right mind decided to make this most perfect being just for me had it, might I say, dangerously right.

She was beautiful.

Her hair chest length and dark, her eyes a light shade of brown they were almost gold. The scars surrounding her rosy pink lips only enhanced the pouty, deep Cupid's bow. Her nose slightly down turned and her cheekbones were lightly rounded instead of the usual high and sharp of the Quileutes. She was tall, about 5'10", but short enough that I knew she'd still be able to rest her head against my shoulder comfortably.

She was dressed in almost nothing. My inner wolf shrieked at me to cover her up. To keep her warm. To slay any and all thoughts from other men that she was theirs to gaze at. All I could see was the large, dark hoodie loose over her lithe frame. A fleeting look to her thighs told me that she was at least wearing a pair of colorful boxer shorts underneath the sweatshirt.

Even though her face was tired, her hair rumpled from sleep, and the distinct smell of a two day old ketchup stain on the hoodie drifted to my nostrils, she was fucking gorgeous.

Without my notice, as all of this had occurred in mere seconds, my fingers dug into the back of Ricky's neck. I could feel his pathetic attempts at trying to remove my hand.

"Can you please get him to let go, it freakin' hurts."

The young woman in front of me tore her eyes away and regarded Ricky with hostility. I wished she would turn her eyes back upon me once more. She could even look at me with as much hatred as she wanted, just as long as she was looking at me.

"Let him go."

Her voice was like heaven. Still husky from when she first woke up, and yet a melodic tone that I could imagine myself hearing for the rest of my life.

When had I turned into such a fucking _girl_?

I instantly let the kid go. Leaving him to fend for himself, I shouldered Jared aside and stood close to my imprint, my eyes never drifting from her stiff frame. Jared elbowed me in the ribs. I bit my lip to stop a snarl from escaping and hit him back with force. He cringed away from me and rubbed at his now bruised side. I could tell he was yelling at me in his head. I knew him too well.

"Thank you-"

My attention spun to Ricky. He had taken a step forward. Babette tensed and shifted one leg in front of the other. Almost in preparation. But for what?

"I don't know why-" Yes, you do. "-but these two and that smaller one just decided to jump me while me and Bebe were hanging out-" More like you were beating the hell out of her. "I don't know where she is-" Not that you care. "And I'm worried about what these _Buffalo Jockeys_ have done to he-"

Ricky didn't get to finish due to my imprint's knee ramming itself into the boy's one-eyed-wonder-lizard. And he deserved it. Racial slurs? Really? Shows how much intelligence this kid really had to resort to that. Admittedly, I did inwardly flinch, trying to shield my crotch in a sympathetic motion.

Ricky dropped to the ground, one of his hands falling to hold himself up while the other cupped himself over his jeans. He let out a whiny cough. Pussy. I would've at least waited until I was alone to show any weakness. I've got to say, I love Paul Jr. just as much at the next guy loves his own junk, but I was not willing to show any weakness in front of an enemy. Even in front of the goddess known at my imprint I would have withheld any and all whines.

Fuming, Babette crouched down low and grabbed for the lower half of Ricky's face. Her fingers bore into his cheeks and his lips were puckered into a fish-like fashion. I shifted a step forward. Getting ready to offer to hold him down so she wouldn't have to touch him. Jared's hand shot out and seized my arm when I went to take another step. His eyes flickered between me and my imprint before widening in realization.

"That's bullshit, Ricky. Both you and I know it." Hell, I think everyone in La Push knew it. "What did I tell you when you first started hanging out with Bebe?"

"That you would knee me in the n-nads if I ever hurt her."

"Right, and what just happened?"

"You broke my balls." He coughed once more.

Damn right she did.

"Exactly. I guess that twenty minute lecture didn't hit home quite as hard as I thought. You hurt my sister, Ricky. You hit her. That is a _big_ no-no. You _never_ hit a girl. Especially one with an elder sibling who would kick anybody's ass that harmed her."

Just knowing what I know now made me want to break some of this kids' bones. To hell with Sam. I would've shoved my foot so far up this boy's ass he would've been tasting mud for a week.

"If I ever see, or even _hear_ about you laying a hand on another girl, I'm going to come find you and cut your dick off with a rusted butter knife. Then I'm going to shove it down your throat for you to choke on. Do I make myself clear?"

Oh, dear lord. She almost had him shitting his pants with just that one menacing threat whereas I'd been trying for fifteen minutes to get him even semi-close. I fucking loved this girl.

"Y-yes."

"Good." she let go of Ricky's face and stood up. She waved a hand at Jared and I. "Just be glad I haven't told these two to get their licks in. especially after hearing you call _us _'Buffalo Jockeys', you _Moss Eater_. You'd probably be much worse off than a few hours of crotch pain."

She had _no _idea. And after not leaving herself out of the slur, seeing as she was half Quileute, I couldn't be more proud to have her as a part of the tribe.

Babette spun around and I bared my teeth at Ricky as she looked through her eyelashes at me. She took a step in Jared and I's direction. I kept my eyes on Ricky to see him stagger to his feet.

His mouth formed words and I knew nothing good could come of it.

"She deserved it, the cock tease."

My imprint stilled, her fists pumping. I registered Jared muttering, "Oh, shit," before she swung around and punched Ricky. There was a crunch and straight away his nose began to gush blood.

"Yeah, well, you deserved that."

_"Fuck!"_

Babette turned, leaving the teenager bleeding and groaning on the ground. He mentioned something about calling the police and filing assault charges on a minor. I growled and glared. Babette gave me a questioning look before glaring at Ricky as he stumbled for his phone.

"And what will they say when we file a report about you assaulting your girlfriend? We've got the injury to prove it."

Ricky made no move to finish reaching for his phone. His eyes flickered from Babette to me uneasily. I bared my teeth once more. I felt Jared nudge my back, subtly telling me to back off. The second Stoddard bloodily grinned at Babette, the snarl was back in place.

"Bebe wouldn't do that to me. She loves me."

Babette leaned forward slightly. I couldn't see her face to discern her expression, but I could hear the victory in her voice as she said, "Wanna bet?"

Ricky's grin fell.

I pivoted to follow my girl as she swerved around me, listening as she threw over her shoulder, "And you can consider this my sister breaking up with you, you asshole!"

If I had known whether or not she would freak out with some random stranger touching her, I would have kissed her right then and there.

Jared looked over at me, and seeing me make no movie to get any closer to my imprint, he hurried to walk beside her. I had a good enough view just fine from where I was walking behind her. It might not have looked like it to anybody else, but she had a strut when she walked, even in slippers and tripping over tree roots. Her hips swayed from side to side in the most delicious way.

"Hey, is your hand okay?"

Her body started, her head turning slightly to the left to look at Jared. She raised her hand and inspected the swelling. I could already tell it was going to hurt like a bitch the next few days. "I expect it to be bruised by the time I get up in the morning. Doesn't hurt as bad as I thought it would, though. Probably just the adrenaline. Not too bad for my first time actually punching someone, yeah?"

First time? She punched like a pro.

"Really?" Jared tilted his head curiously. "Where did you learn to punch like that then? You got him perfectly in the nose."

I expected something along the lines of, _"Oh, just my father. He used to be a boxer."_

Instead, all I heard was:

"...boyfriend."

_Motherfucker._

My world fell apart. My eyebrows furrowed in anger, my feet spinning me in the opposite direction to the path they had previously been taking. I left a loud wolfish snarl in my wake. Everything went out of focus. The second I was far enough away from the party I phased, not caring if anyone saw me or not. What was left of my shorts fluttered to the ground in tatters behind me as I took off running.

In less than twenty minutes my world had been drastically changed. I had imprinted. _Imprinted._ And she was already taken. I should have known she wouldn't be single. A girl that gorgeous wouldn't be left on the market for long.

There was a pain in my chest I couldn't get rid of. The thing that had previously been trying to claw its way out when I first looked into her eyes was now viciously tearing around my head. It bared its teeth and threatened me to turn my ass around and grovel at her feet.

I pushed it back. So, what? My imprint was already in a relationship. I could do this. I could be the friend who was never allowed more than a friendly touch. No hugging, no kissing, no intimate moments... Her on her back, panting in my ear, fingernails scraping at my back, tongue tracing its way down my stomach to-

Screw it. I can't do it. The wolf grew more upset. His fury radiated through my body so purely that my hackles raised. I needed something to take my mind off of this. I needed to destroy something. My wolf smelled the fresh scent of an animal, a deer most likely, and pushed me into following it.

As soon as I caught sight of the herbivore, I was gone for the second time in one night.

The deer never even had a chance.

As I was coming down from my anger induced rage, I looked down to see the throat ripped out of a young buck. Blood seeped into the ground and I could feel it meshing into the fur around my muzzle.

_Jesus, I hope I never imprint on a girl who's already in a relationship with another man. Because if it's going to make me act like how you are right now, then I don't want it._

Embry.

I gave him a thought in passing as I licked my muzzle, shortly wondering why he was phased when it wasn't his patrol.

A fleeting image and emotion of him getting pissed over the sounds coming from his mother's bedroom brushed across my mind.

_I love the woman to death, but does she really need to bring that shit home with her?_

I stayed silent, a little too preoccupied with my own problems.

_Right. You imprinted – which is amazing in itself – on a chick that already has a boyfriend... Which made you rush off to slaughter a poor defenseless deer._

Exactly. What the hell was I supposed to do?

_I'd suggest taking that buck home for Emily to cook. No use letting it go to waste. Well, actually, your slobber _is_ all over it, so... _gross_._

I didn't even hear his comment as I continued to stew in unwanted worry.

I could feel Embry roll his eyes and snort. _First of all, man the fuck up. Go after her, you dickwad. Don't just sit here and sulk. Fight for your woman._

Now why hadn't I thought of that?

_Because all of your rational thoughts have flown out the window._

They have _not._

_ Paul, you just killed a deer because you were bloodthirsty about a boyfriend. Any rational thoughts you might have had are gone for the moment._ I could see through Embry's eyes that he was pacing the treeline behind his house. _You just imprinted on the girl you're going to be spending the rest of your life with and then found out she's already with someone else. You're in love with a taken woman. You have a reason to be a little upset._

Then I had to go after her. I wouldn't be the guy who sat back and pined as he watched his girl go out with other guys. She was going to be mine. She was made just for me and it was going to stay that way. Fuck if an inconvenient thing like a boyfriend was going to stand in my way.

_Amen, brother!_

I should give props to Bebe, though. If she hadn't dating that dill-hole, Ricky, then I probably never would have met Babette. Her face popped up in my thoughts and I softened immensely.

_Hmm... She looks vaguely familiar. I think I've seen her before. And I've definitely heard the names somewhere, too._

My paws shifted uneasily on the cold ground. If Embry knew who she was, then I would be able to find her much easier. I was such an asshole for taking off like that and never once speaking a word to her. I growled, and that was it. Fuck.

I listened closely to Embry's thoughts and heard nothing but silence from inside the small home. What was he doing just standing there? Sounded like nothing was going on at the moment.

_I'm not going back inside tonight. No way. I'm sleeping outside._

Usually when Embry spent the night outside he slept closer to the house. He would be covered in morning dew come sunup, but it was the price to pay for a decent night's sleep.

_I'm waiting for my neighbor to get back. She disappeared about half an hour ago with her kids. I can't very well be out in the grass when she gets home. She'll convince me to sleep on her couch. She's good at that. Because of her persuasion skills I know that she makes damn good spaghetti. _

My mouth watered at the lingered taste of the food slipped on my tongue. I shook my head to clear it. Maybe I'll go see if I can crash at Sam's tonight after I finished patrol. Thinking of food made me remember Emily. Which then made me realize that Emily was a woman. She could help me with my problems.

_You do that, Paul. I'm sure she'll be much more help than any of the guys. Being a girl and all._

Right, I'm off then.

Looking down, I saw the large animal still staring blankly out into the forest with it's throat ripped out laid before me like a sacrifice to the gods.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with this deer?

Embry's bellowing laugh ringing through the pack bond made me want to punch him.


	4. 2-1 Babette

A/N: **No beta, all edited by me** **:)**

* * *

_***Babette's View***_

_**Chapter Two – Part One**_

* * *

At seven in the morning, with roughly only five hours of sleep total from the night before, I groggily woke. My numb right arm was pinned to the mattress by something heavy and my left side was weighed down. Opening my eyes along with a yawn, I looked to my left to see Barni snuggled into my chest, his head settled against my collarbone. To my right was Bebe, one of her arms above her head and a soft breath against my ear every time she exhaled.

I gently ruffled Barni's hair with my only free hand. He sighed and flipped himself over facing away from me. I lifted my arm and raised it to skim over the darkened bruise on the right side of Bebe's face. My eyes caught sight of the same coloring painted across two of the knuckles on my right hand near Bebe's head. I frowned.

Just seeing the injuries made me furious all over again. It made me want to rush over to the Stoddard household to tell Ricky's aunt. He would have sustained so much more damage than I ever could have dealt out if I had called and woken her in the middle of the night. She would have gone ape-shit. I wonder what excuse he came up with when he went home with blood gushing like the Niagara Falls out of his nose.

Braxton's crib shifted. The creaking of the wood was loud in the morning silence. I lifted onto one elbow, seeing as my right arm was still captured under Bebe's deadweight, and looked to the corner of the room. The toddler was on his feet with his hands tightly gripping the top bar of the crib. His dark eyes were pointed in my direction. As soon as he saw that I was awake, he gave a toothy smile and bounced up and down. Cooing, he reached one of his tiny hands out towards me.

It was only after I had untangled myself from the different body parts of my siblings that I was able to release him from his prison. I settled him against my chest and nuzzled his forehead with my nose. I inhaled deeply. I loved Braxton's baby scent. I was going to be severely disappointed when it finally decided to go away as he got older. Maybe I could convince him to continue bathing with baby shampoo for the rest of his life. I leaned back down into the crib to pick up his pale blue blanket. Leaving the room with him in my arms, I shut the door behind us.

"How's my big man this morning?"

Braxton gurgled and pat my cheek.

"That good, huh? Wish my morning started as good as yours." I ran a hand through his fine hair. "I was woken up in the middle of the night to go rescue Sissy from her evil boy toy."

Braxton yanked on my hair. He giggled while I winced. I paused at the opening that lead into the living room and took a quick glance at the small, somewhat cluttered space. The living room and kitchen were one room. Half of it was gray linoleum while the other was beige carpet. The only thing to sit on other than the floor was a beat up brown suede couch – the one that I stumbled into the night before – pushed up against the back of the counter's half wall that lead into the kitchen. I had found it at a garage sale a year ago and it was still in pretty good condition after a good cleaning. I had bought it for the low price of a hundred and fifty dollars.

There wasn't much more to say about the house we lived in. It's small, I can tell you that. The large-ish front room, the two small bedrooms shared two people each. There was also one small, tiny bathroom. It really shouldn't have even been considered a bathroom at all. It had a toilet, a sink, and a shower stall stuffed into the small space. I've always assumed that when they were putting up the frame and structure of the building, it was originally supposed to be a walk in closet or pantry. But in their haste to get the house on the market, they forgot to build a room for the bathroom. The closet was no longer a closet and instead became the smallest bathroom known to mankind.

Scanning the meager belonging scattered across the room, I really wouldn't have it any other way. The only thing I wish I could change was for there to be a bathtub in the house. I would have loved for Barni and Braxton to have been able to take baths every once in a while, instead of me fumbling to not get wet in the stall while I bathed Braxton because our kitchen sink wasn't big enough. It was either that, or more closet space for all the supplies taking up the wobbly, black, fold-up table beside the TV.

My grandmother from my mom's side of the family had gotten me interested in basket weaving when I was ten. During one of her monthly visits long before she died she had brought along one of the baskets she had been in the middle of weaving. I fell in love with how nimbly her old, wrinkly fingers moved against the flat oval reed that was turning into the perfect basket. So, I became a basket weaver in my spare time. After years of practice and many failed attempts, they were finally good enough to be sold to the local consignment shop when I was in need for extra cash. Mainly though, I was making them for someone who had specifically ordered one. Like Emily Young did for her mother's upcoming birthday.

On most days, I worked at Vinny's Diner – I know, how original, having the restaurant named after its owner, Vince – but during nights, I created works of art. The closet in my room was full of the different types of materials and tools needed for such projects. All of my clothes had been put into flat Tupperware boxes and slid under my bed to get them out of the way.

I got myself and Braxton fed, showered, redressed – and diapered – and then sat down on the floor in front of the TV. We watched an episode or two of some old cartoons that were on early this morning before I had to wake our siblings up for the day. Braxton happily pointed at the screen with one hand, his giggles smothered due to the other hand being stuffed in his mouth.

Just after eight, I heard a door down the hall open. Soft footsteps against the carpet led them into the bathroom and a door closed. The flushing of a toilet was heard, the sink running, and then the door reopened. I looked over my shoulder to see Bebe yawning widely into her hand as she stood in the hallway opening.

"Hey, sis."

She hummed a hello, moving to scratch her stomach under her night shirt. "Do you need in the bathroom? I'm gonna get a quick shower before we have to head out."

I shook my head.

She started back down the hall. Before she could get too far, I hastily called out, "Is Barni up?"

"Yeah."

"Make sure he uses the bathroom before you get in there. I don't want another incident like last time."

She didn't say anything, but I did hear the bathroom door shut.

"Bebe? Did you hear me?"

I sighed when she ignored me. Leaving Braxton occupied with the TV and a couple of his toys, I hurried down the short hall.

Knocking on the bathroom door, I told her, "You better not start that shower, Bebe Marie. Let Barni in there before you get in."

She groaned from the other side of the door. "He'll be fine! If you have to, have him go outside and find a tree to pee on. I'm already naked anyways."

The squeak of the knob to the shower being turned on was muffled through the wood and the shower started. I moaned in frustration, moving the few feet to my open bedroom doorway. Barnibee lay sprawled across my bed, his limbs stretched out as far as they could go. If he had been bigger he would've taken up most of the bed. Because of his small size for his age, he barely took up half of it. His eyes were comically squeezed shut tightly. He still hadn't quite mastered the art of pretend sleeping.

I crawled in next to him and moved aside a few of the stray limbs so I could lay down. Adjusting my head to a more comfortable position, I studied him. His eyes were still scrunched closed, his mouth taut with tension. He was trying hard not to smile. His face was elf-like, his chin and ears more pointed than rounded. His skin tone was a dark tan, barely even considered russet like our mother's was.

Reaching out a finger, I ran it down his nose and tapped the end of it. His golden brown eyes popped open and he grinned. He was missing one of his front teeth. Seeing it made me smile widely back at him. He flipped over onto his side to fully face me and scooted close.

"Have any good dreams, Barnes?" I whispered.

Barni nodded and said just as quietly, "I dreamed I had wings and was flying. You were there, and so was Bebe and Braxton."

"Did all of us have wings?"

He nodded once more. "Yeah, but Braxton's weren't full developed yet. Like a baby bird. You had to carry him."

I brushed a few strands of hair from his face before pulling my arm back into my body. "And what kind of wings did we have? Was it birds'?"

I asked because he loved birds. Along with the posters up on his walls, he had several thick books on bird species. There was one in just about every room of the house. Two were from the library, the rest were bought at thrift stores and yard sales. Whenever he had the chance, when either Bebe or I could keep an eye on him, he was always outside, his eyes searching the trees. He could spend hours waiting for a specific bird to land on the outskirts of the woods behind the house.

"Bebe had the wings of a butterfly."

"Oh, I bet she'll love that when she hears it. You know how much she loves insects."

Bebe had a fear of anything bug related. From gnats to moths, she froze up whenever she saw one. Other than the ants that occasionally escaped from Barni's ant farm, she was scared of everything else. She was even more terrified of spiders. I constantly liked to remind and tease her about the time she freaked about the Daddy Long Legs that was supposedly 'stalking' her.

Barni giggled. "Chewy had Hummingbird wings."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's 'cause he's so little. But when he grows up, he's gonna be fast and strong."

Braxton's shrieks of laughter drifted into the room through the open doorway. We could hear Bugs Bunny's voice coming from the living room.

"What about you and me?"

"I had Magpie wings and you had angel wings. They were real pretty, Babsy."

"Angel, huh?'

"Uh-huh." He confirmed his answer with an exaggerated nod.

"Do I still get my angel wings if I do this?" I reached out and firmly poked his stomach. He jerked back with a squeal.

It was well-known within the family that all of our relatives were ridiculously ticklish. When my cousin Kim and I were nine and six, I had made her pee her pants just from holding her down and running my hands along her sides until she loudly protested she was going to pee herself. Barni was no exception to the tickling.

"Noooo, Baaaabs!"

Sitting up, I poked him a few more times. He kicked his feet out and scrambled away from me. He went too far and fell off the side of the bed. His cackling let me know that he was alright. I leaned over the edge of the mattress and looked down at him, chuckling.

"You good?"

He caught his breath and gave me a thumbs up. "I just really need to pee now."

"Go knock on the bathroom door and see if your sister is done yet. If not, turn the hot water in the kitchen on. That'll get her out pretty quick."

With a mischievous grin, he shot to his feet and scurried down the hall. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I heard him bang on the bathroom door several times. Bebe screamed that she would, "_Be out in a minute, you little shit!"_

Shaking my head in amusement, I left the room just as Bebe opened the bathroom door in only a towel and her hair still dripping. Barni slipped by and shoved her out of the way so that he could shut the door. Scowling at me, my sister shuffled towards me. The tattoo trail or stars falling down from her shoulder to under the towel on the right side of her chest stood out on her pale skin.

She pushed past me and entered my room.

"I'm borrowing your clothes," she spat.

There was no argument as she slammed the door shut. I mocked her and rolled my eyes. Perfectly good clothing in her bedroom and she has to wear mine to subtly get back at me. The Noland house was insanity in the mornings.

* * *

We were running late. Bebe couldn't find her shoes from the night before, Barnibee managed to slam his fingers in one of the cupboard doors while looking for breakfast, Braxton needed his diaper changed one last time, and I couldn't remember where I had put Emily Young's gift.

"Shit," I muttered. My closet had been torn apart, materials spread out all over the floor and my bed. "Where in the hell did I put it?"

"Are you sure you stuck it in there, Babs?" Bebe asked.

I knelt, rifling through the completed baskets at the bottom of the closet. I glanced over at her leaning against the door frame with Braxton on her hip.

"I thought I did."

She bounced the toddler and said, "You didn't put it in the trunk of your car after you finished it like you did with Mr. Blake's, did you?"

A vague memory of me carefully placing the basket between an assortment of school books, diapers, clothing, and the odd toy flounced into my head. It was put in there so I wouldn't forget it when the time came to deliver it. My frustration grew as it hit me. "Damn it!"

Bebe smirked. I stood up and rushed from the room. She followed along behind me, stooping to pick up the worn diaper bag at the end of the couch. "You need to start sticking Post-it notes to your forehead to remind yourself of these things."

I tossed her a dirty hand gesture over my shoulder and shouted, "Let's go, Barnibee!"

Barni looked up from finishing putting on a _Transformers_ Band-Aid around his wounded finger. Really, there wasn't anything wrong with it. There was no blood or bruising, but how could I deny the adorable teary-eyed look he had given me.

"Do we really have to go to mom's today?"

"Yes," I huffed. I scrambled around the living room to gather my keys and cell phone. "I've got some business stuff to do this morning. And then I have to get some grocery shopping done or we won't be eating dinner tonight. It's her only time with you and Braxton this month, remember? Don't worry, I'll be by mom's to pick you up a few hours after I've dropped you off. It won't take me long."

Barni frowned, but, nonetheless, he threw away the wrapper to his Band-Aid and exit the kitchen.

"Let's go, kidlings. We gotta hustle 'cause I need to be to Miss Emily's by ten-thirty."

According to the clock on the wall, which was three minutes fast, it was already fifty minutes past nine.

Bebe pulled the front door open, still barefoot, and Barni and I filed out after her. I locked the front door behind me and let the screen door slam shut. We hoofed it down the gravel driveway to the car. My sister walked like the rocks didn't bother her. We'd all done it at some point before several times in the past. I squinted my eyes through the sunlight and looked at the yard surrounding my house for the first time that morning.

There were only three other houses nearby; one next door and the other two sat just across the street. The next bundle of houses was less than a half a mile away in the direction of La Push. Me and the family living in the house next door shared a front and backyard because the buildings were so close together and we had no fence. So, I wasn't surprised to see Embry Call spread-eagle in the grass nearby with an arm thrown over his eyes.

I had awkwardly met Ms. Call and her son when I had first moved in, back right before I was taking care of the kids full time. The mother and I didn't interact much except to say the occasional hello or to ask for an extra cup of sugar. That was the extent of my relationship with her. Embry, although shy at first, was much more friendly. He sometimes brought over an old action figure he had found under his bed for Barni. He'd even found a few discount Disney movies for Braxton a few times when he went into Port Angeles.

He was a nice kid. He'd gone through some changes a few years ago, though, that made me wonder about whether he was doing drugs or not. After actually getting to know him more, I learned that he was an exceptional person. When I grew comfortable enough for him to be around the kids, I'd convinced him to spend the night on my couch after I'd found him trying to sleep outside. His excuse was that his mother was a bit of a tart. He said that with love. I then forced him – actually, there was no force at all. All it took was the word 'food' to get him moving – to eat dinner with us. It went well. He ate all of what was supposed to be our leftovers. I think I made him feel bad after casually mentioning that that had been our meals for the next day. He tried to avoid eating our food at all costs after that. Not that it actually worked.

For some reason he could never remember my name. It was like the little people in his brain never filed the paperwork in the filing cabinet labeled 'save'. Every time I saw him he called me something different. For the last two weeks it had been Mamacita, Babylon, Brandy and Mumsy. I had no problem with it. Though, Bebe did. She had a major crush on him and was jealous that I was given numerous nicknames by him. Barni exploited this information whenever the older boy was around to embarrass her.

"Rough night, Embry?"

He gave a low groan.

"I'll take that as a yes," I chuckled.

Bebe looked over at the sound of his name and her eyes widened exponentially. He _was_ shirtless after all. She almost tossed Braxton into his car seat and then shoved Barni through the small space to the seat on the other side before he could say anything. Watching her grow flustered as she stood there made me choke back laughter. Letting the diaper bag drop to the ground, she ruffled her chin length brown hair. As soon as it was mussed, she reached a hand down the top of her shirt to straighten her boobs and lift them up. Her fingers lightly ran over the makeup covering her bruised face and swiped over her eyebrows. All the while her gaze was glued to the man meat half asleep on the lawn.

I rolled my eyes with a grin and moved towards her. "Get in the car, Bebe."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Embry's body stiffen in the damp grass.

"Bu-"

I opened the door to the driver's side. "I don't care, get in. We need to go."

I pushed her through the doorway and she climbed over the center console into the passenger's seat. Picking up the diaper bag, I squished it onto the floor between my seat and Braxton's car seat. I then shut the back door and turned back to Embry.

"See you later, Em."

He had sat up, his arms by his sides and his mouth gaping in disbelief. I could have sworn I heard him mutter, "I thought she looked familiar," before I slid into my seat and closed the door. Embry waved slowly at us.

"Buckle your brothers up, Babes, I might be breaking a couple of laws to get to mom's house."

After leaning into the backseat to buckled Braxton up and making sure Barni was secured under his seat belt, she swiveled back around and buckled herself in. The second we hit pavement she put her feet up onto the dashboard. Her vibrant lime green polished toenails were bright against the dark interior of the car. I didn't bother asking her to put them down. They'd only be back up five minutes later.

Scanning the empty road in front of the car, I peeked over at her. "So..."

The night before as I was putting her to bed I had told her that her and Ricky were over and that she wasn't to go anywhere near him ever again. She had readily agreed that he was bad for her health. And then promptly burst into another round of tears. Any thought of asking the reason why she had gone to a party instead of the movies like she had told me was immediately put on a back burner. Until now.

She fidgeted with the dark blue long-sleeved shirt she had chosen from my minimal wardrobe. She gave me a sidelong glance and bit at her fingernails.

"Are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

"You know what happened last night."

"I know what happened at the party. I want to know what happened to make you go to the party in the first place. I'm not stupid, Bebe. I've seen how down you've been the last few days since you last got home from mom's house."

Bebe began chewing at her lips.

I fumbled to find a packet of spearmint gum to give to her. I ran my tongue over the raised skin around my lips. Lip chewing was a sore spot for me and I tried to keep my siblings from doing it by always having gum around. I finally found a package in the glove compartment and pulled out a stick to give to her. She accepted it without complaint, unwrapped it, and folded it with her tongue as she shoved it in her mouth.

My sister pulled her sleeves down over her hands. "Do you remember me telling you about applying for that job at that bookstore in Forks?"

"Yeah, but you told me they'd have to get back to you because they already had several other applicants."

"Uh-huh, well, somehow mom found out."

My shoulders dropped and I grumbled, "Oh, no."

Bebe slumped down further into the seat. "Oh, yes. We got into this huge argument. You know mom wouldn't have told you this, but the bank has been calling about the house. I figured that I should get a job to help out."

"Bebe, you know you don't have t-"

"Yeah, Babs, I do," she interrupted. "All that money from when grandpa Joe died went straight to mom and it's almost gone. You can't be the only one bringing in the money anymore. The tips you get and the meager cash you make off of your basketry isn't going to keep two houses afloat much longer. Mom wouldn't get a job to save her life, you know this. You need help."

Frowning, I silently, and reluctantly, agreed with her logic. I didn't make much with the tips at the diner and I always charged less than I should when delivering a basket I had weaved. I always felt bad for charging what they were actually worth when the customers were just as bad off as we were.

"What happened with mom, Bebe?"

She sighed. "She spieled all this shit about everyone leaving her and how she needs me at home to take care of her."

I slowed the car as we entered the lowest of the town's speed limits. We were passing the gas station before I spoke again. "You don't need to take care of mom. I've been doing it my whole life. Catering to her will only make her want more than what you can give. Believe me, I know."

Bebe shrugged. She blew a quick bubble and popped it loudly. "I don't care what she thinks; I need this job. She's just pissed because I won't be there to drive her to buy her booze since she got her license revoked. Besides, mom's got a new boyfriend. I need the money just to buy food because he eats it all when I'm not there. He's got a serious case of the munchies most of the time."

I scoffed, knowing the exact reason for the food intake. "That's just great."

She pulled her feet off the dashboard and turned in the seat to look at me. One of her legs was pulled up and she adjusted the seat belt to make it work. "I don't see why I can't just make the move into your house permanent. I mean, I spend most of my time there anyways. And Barni and Braxton do for the most part. Why can't I?"

Coming up to one of the two stop lights in La Push, it turned red and I pressed on the brakes. I turned to her. "You know why, Bebe. After I made that threat about calling the police on her last August I'm only allowed to have the boys if I continue to give her just about half of what I make to pay for bills. And only if you stay there at least three times a week to help out around the house. As soon as I start making more then I can try and work something out with her so that you can live with me. But until then, you have to tough it out. Remember, I lasted eighteen years there. You only have one more to go and then she can't control you anymore and you can get the hell out of there. You're a lot stronger and older than the boys. You can make it, they can't."

I pat Bebe's leg and she went silent, her teeth nibbling on her fingernails again. I glanced in the rear view mirror and flipped down the little baby mirror attached to the bottom and looked behind me. Braxton was murmuring to himself, his feet kicking against the car sear. My eyes flickered to look at Barni. He was focused on the sky above the buildings outside the window. As if feeling my gaze, his head turned and he stared back through the mirror. The light turned green and I let off the brakes and onto the gas.

"Mom's house sucks major ass."

Bebe broke into peals of laughter. I spun around – luckily there wasn't anyone in the opposite lane as the car jerked to the side – to scowl at my younger brother.

"Barnibee Lee!"

"What? It's true and you know it."

"Barni, mom loves yo-"

"No, she doesn't. She doesn't love me or Braxton. I just remind her of dad and Chewy reminds her of the condom that broke with some random man skank."

My sister started choking on her chortles.

"It's not funny, Bebe!" I glared at her and then looked back at Barni. "Where in the hell did you hear that? Was it mom?"

Barnibee lowered his head and picked at the fabric on the passenger's seat in front of him. "I heard Bebe telling one of her friends over the phone."

Glowering at my sister, she stopped choking as I grunted, "You are so dead."

"It's okay, Babs. She called herself the anti-Christ and you the effed up first born."

Bebe burst into laughter once more. "I completely forgot about that!"

I leaned my elbow against the door and cradled my forehead as I shook my head. "Now I'm really going to kill you..."

She slapped her knees and her face turned red from lack of oxygen.

I rolled my eyes in irritation and then froze in thought. "Barnibee, did she actually say 'effed up', or was it 'fucked up'?"

My sister's merriment came to an end. I narrowed my eyes at her. Just as we turned into our mother's driveway, Barnibee answered.

"The second one. I just didn't want to hurt your delicate ears by repeating an explicit swear word."

Bebe snorted and I chuckled in disbelief while parking the car. "If you ever say that word, Barni, you won't get ice cream for a month."

His eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. "I haven't. I won't."

Giving Bebe a sideways glance, she was smart enough to not even let the hint of a smirk appear. "And you, you need to stop staying stuff like that around the boys. Seriously, Braxton is going to start repeating the words we say soon. Do you really want him shouting the F word in a public place? Wait," I held up a hand when she went to voice her opinion. "You'd most likely just encourage more of it."

"It's not like you're a model citizen either, Babsy," Bebe said, unbuckling her seat belt. "You just said fuck right in front of them."

"Bebe! So did you. _Shut up_!"

Both her and Barni started giggling at my flustered hand movements. Braxton, seeing the two laugh, rapidly began babbling along with a wide smile.

"Oh, come on, Babs." Bebe twisted to look at the toddler. "With the language he hears from mom, I wouldn't be surprised if his first full sentences have something to do with anal, bestiality, or how many orgasms he can get in one sitting from a hooker."

I groaned into my hands.

"What's besti-"

"Nothing, Barni! Put it out of your mind."

Bebe grinned, her fingers fumbling with the door handle. Before then, none of us had bothered to make a move to get out of the car. I hadn't even shut off the engine. I wasn't planning on going inside with them. The last time I'd come to visit my mother she had thrown a punch at me. Since then, I had just given Bebe the envelope with the amount of money we had agreed on to give to our mother.

I glanced at the clock on the stereo and saw that it was already ten minutes after ten.

The familiar sound of glass breaking behind the thin walls of the two story home made me lean over Bebe and pull her leg back into the car before closing the door.

I rubbed my forehead. "Let me go check it out before you take the kids in there. If it's bad you're not staying here. Don't turn the car off. I won't be long."

I got out of the car and stifled a low gasp as something shattered the front living room window. That was going to be expensive to have fixed. There were two voices shrewdly screaming at each other inside the house. Leaning back down to see my sister, I said, "Bebe, get in my seat and pull the car away from the house. I don't want you guys getting hit with anything in case this gets really ugly. And lock the doors."

My sister scrambled behind the steering wheel as I shut the door. I could hear the car being put into reverse and then the tires rolling down to the end of the driveway. It was put into park as I reached the front door.

My palms started to sweat. I was worried over what I was going to find inside. Flashbacks from when I was a child kept me from immediately reaching for the doorknob. The yelling hadn't decreased, nor had it increased. This was a good sign. Silence was sometimes just as bad as shouting.

I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Maybe I should just get back in the car and not even bother checking on my mother. It's not like she'd acted at all maternal to me when I was younger. There was a reason for the scars around my lips. She didn't feed me much, and I often found chewing on my lips more satisfying than eating whatever I could off the floor. She only started cooking me meals when my first grade teacher called child services on my parents. My stomach might have been fuller, but the physical and emotional scars from the experience stayed with me for life.

"Grow some balls, Babette," I muttered to myself. "Get in there and help your mother before this guy kills her."

I rolled my shoulders to loosen them and turned the doorknob. I pushed at the door with a little difficulty. A large, heavy object had been thrown in front of it. Shoving with all my strength, I managed to make an opening just big enough to slip my body through. I took in all the damage. The couch was what had been pushed against the door. It was tipped over onto its back. The TV had been tossed aside. The screen had a crack in it that originated from the bottom right corner and spider-webbed out. Let's just say that the rest of the living room was such a mess that I couldn't even begin to describe what was whole and what was shattered into a thousand pieces.

The screaming came from upstairs now. They must have moved from the time they had thrown whatever through the window to when I had psyched myself up to come inside. I tread into the mess, the sound of glass crunching under my shoes with every step. Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, a male form hit the wall at the top. He yelled nonsense back into what I knew to be my mother's bedroom.

Seconds later he was being shoved down the stairs to land in an awkward heap at my feet. I take back what I said. I needed to get in here and help before my _mother_ killed _him_.

"Holy fuck, woman!" He bellowed from the floor. "All I did was ask you to make me a sandwich!"

My mother – the woman who deemed it necessary for me to know how to make all of her alcoholic beverages by the age of seven – shrieked down the stairwell, "Make your own goddamn sandwich! I'm not your fuckin' housekeeper."

She stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door without even sparing her daughter a glance. Wow, I'm so happy to be here to make sure she was okay.

Heavy breathing made me look down. The man was still sprawled out on the floor at my feet. I lifted a foot and nudged his shoulder. He started, staring up at me with dark eyes as if I were an alien life form with a penis protruding from my forehead. He must have recognized me from the photos lining the hallway at the top of the stairs. The frames were cracked and uneven, but the pictures were still good quality. The man blew out a hefty breath.

"Bitch is crazy."

I slowly nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know. I would be getting out alive right about now before something happened to change that if I were you. I have helped her bury a body in the backyard, you know."

He blankly blinked up at me. I could tell he was on something. His pupils were dilated and his eyes wide.

"Nah, I think I'll be okay... I'm just gonna go make my own sandwich."

I shook my head. Of course, this was how all of them were. Quick to get a hit in on my mother and yet still want to be living with her after she had either stabbed them or thrown them down the stairs. I'd come across the same scene many times over the years. I'm still astonished none of them had ever called the cops on her. Her vagina must spew gold to get them to stay.

I gagged. I really shouldn't be thinking things like that if I wanted to keep my meager breakfast where it belonged.

Inspecting the disaster in the living room, there was no way I was letting my siblings stay here for the day. I wouldn't take the chance, not with the mood my mother was currently in. Who knew if she would turn on one of her youngest children. I hurried up the steps and reached for my mother's bedroom door. Instead of knocking, knowing she would just curse at me, I pushed the door open and entered the room.

The room was like a shrine to my deceased father, Justin Noland. Everything he had touched the day he commit suicide eight years ago was exactly there he had left it. His work boots were still at the end of the bed. One of his shirts lay on the floor beside the hamper from where he'd missed after tossing it. Even his cologne was still on top of the dresser, the cap off and set next to it. My father wasn't around much when I was a kid, so it was a little disconcerting to see my mother still holding on to his memory so badly. And for so long. I feared her mental state wasn't all that it used to be.

Outside the bedroom my mother didn't like any reminders of my father. I liked to think that my mother loved her children, but Bebe, Barni and I were all his kids. It showed in our paler skin tone, brown hair, and golden eyes. We reminded her of her dead husband every second she looked at us. Braxton was the only child of hers that didn't belong to him, and she had no shame in shunning the toddler like she had with the rest of us just for that fact.

I prayed that one day she would get better. That she would get into rehab and start to live the life she had never reached out and taken. I knew it would never happen. I guess watching your husband stick a gun in his mouth and blow his brains out made a woman go even more crazy than she already was. I gave her a little leeway for that.

"Mom? Katrina?"

"What?" Her tone was grouchy.

I searched the room for her. The heavy curtains covering the windows made it difficult to see. I finally spotted her on the floor on the other side of the queen-sized bed. She lifted a bottle of Jack Daniel's and took a swig of the amber liquid.

She barely even looked in my direction. She didn't ask why I was here. She didn't wonder how I was doing; how my life was going without her. Usually she at least asked how cleaning shit up and serving people other than her was going for me.

Today she stayed silent.

"I don't think it's such a good idea for the kids to stay here for the visit today." I moved further into the room, stepping over the pair of men's jeans crumpled into a ball near the door.

"Why not?"

"Because there's glass all over the floor downstairs. Barni or Braxton could hurt themselves."

"...Your point?"

Irritation took hold in my stomach. It started to grow. "Mom, they're not coming into this house until you get it all cleaned up. Don't believe for a second that just because you don't care for their well-being that I also don't."

My mother completely ignored me. "Where's that slut sister of yours?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "She's been at my house. You know she only comes over on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Today's Saturday. She's out in the car."

Even though she didn't look it, I could tell she was pissed off. Her only tell was the hand holding the bottle of liquor gripped a little tighter. Her knuckles were turning white. I knew where this was headed. I needed to get out of there before she threw that bottle at me.

"Mom, just pick up the house. The kids can come over next Saturday when you've cleaned it up."

"No! You can't have them!" She leaned against the wall and struggled to slide herself up to her feet.

"Then stop throwing every breakable thing in the house at whatever has pissed you off! They could get badly injured-"

"You. Can't. Have. Them." She enunciated each word with a slur.

I slowly started retracing my steps backwards in the direction of the door. "Do you really want me to call child services? I'd gain custody of them all and you wouldn't get a single penny from me anymore. Do you really want to risk the money I give to you each month?"

She hesitated, the bottle in her hand slipped as her grip loosened. She tightened it just in time and didn't let gravity take it from her fingers. She gazed at me pitifully. "You promised you wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, if you'd stop spending all your money on alcohol, stopped trashing the house, and ended whoring yourself out than maybe I'll reconsider."

In her own fucked up way, she still loved her kids. She might not have liked us all that much but she still wanted to be in her kids' lives in some way. They were still a part of Justin Noland whether she liked it or not. If it were up to me she wouldn't ever get to see them. They had a better childhood right now than they ever would have had if they had continued to grow up around the mess that was our mother.

She hated me with a passion. She knew that at any second I could go to the cops and claim abuse for all the things she had done to me as a child. I could tell them that I was afraid of a repeat for my brothers and sister. I could gain custody of them and she wouldn't have been able to do a thing about it.

If that ever did happen, there would be no more cash flowing in her direction. She would be on her own and wouldn't survive a week without help.

Yeah, she fucking hated me.

"...No. You can't do that. What of they take them away from you? We'd never see them again. My babies would be gone."

"Well, at least they'll be getting the fuck away from you."

I determined it was a good time to leave the second she cocked her arm back and hurled the Jack Daniel's bottle at my head. It smashed into the wall adjacent to me as I ducked my head and dodged the throw.

I took off running down the stairs and into the living room. The man currently living with my mother was leaning against the wall that lead into the kitchen. In his hands was a large sandwich with all the fixings. He took a bite out of it as I landed at the bottom of the stairs. I could feel his lazy eyes following me as I rushed towards the front door.

My mother's footsteps were unsteady as she followed me down the stairs. By the time I slid back through the barely open door, she was tripping over the items littering the dirty carpet and crashing to the floor. I slammed the screen door in Katrina Noland's face.

Furious, she yelled something – nonsense I couldn't understand. I ignored her shouts and jogged down the driveway to the car. I peered through the windshield to see Bebe back in the passenger's seat and gaping like a fish. Her mouth continued to open and close and I grew closer. Barni had leaned forward in his seat and was looking over her shoulder. His face only slightly hinted at fear at the sight of his mother stumbling over her feet in the unmowed lawn and now throwing rocks at his sister.

I fumbled for the door handle, wincing as a large stone actually reached its target. Bebe lunged to unlock the door while I rubbed at my shoulder. I scrambled into the seat and slammed the door shut just as my mother reached the car. She flung herself into the door and pounded on the glass. I relocked the door before she could try and open it.

"Jesus, Babette! What the fuck did you do?" Bebe called out over the screams of the woman beating against the car.

Braxton started whimpering in the back seat.

I thanked whatever god there was that the car was still running, and that it hadn't stalled on me in more than a week. I smacked it into reverse and looked over my shoulder to see out the back window.

"I threatened her with child services and no money. Again. You're not living there anymore Bebe. Not with the condition the house is in and the way she acts. Why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad?"

"That's it? Why the hell is she freaking out? You've threatened her a million times with the no cash thing." I noticed she didn't answer my question and that worried me.

"She's drunk, and most likely high, Bebe. Does she really need another reason?"

Both Barni and Bebe spun in their seats to look out the back window as I pulled away from the house. Our mother went back to throwing rocks, her aim uneven and landing everywhere but near the car. Until she had a moment of clarity, took a few good steps, and propelled a stone hard enough that it hit the back left taillight.

I didn't stop the car when I faintly heard the rattle of the hard plastic cracking and falling off. Bebe slowly turned back around, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. Other than Braxton's low whimpers, the silence in the car was deafening.

My sister tapped her fingers together, taking short glances at me before shooting her eyes away. My hands tightened around the steering wheel and I ground my teeth together. I just knew she was going to make some smart ass comment to make this moment even worse.

"So..."

Here it comes.

"If mom acts like that when you tell her for the thousandth time that you're going to call child services, then how do you think she'll react when I tell her I want to become a nymphomaniac and live in a nudist colony?"

Ladies and gentlemen, my sister.

Frustrated, my eyes flicked to the stereo.

It was ten forty-five.

I was late.

Mother_fucker._

* * *

A/N:

**So, no Paul this chapter, but we do get his POV next time.**

**I wanted to thank everyone who favorited and followed Basket-Case. And to guest** Noface **for the review. **

**You know, if you have any questions about what you read, or you didn't like something, tell me. Any kind of review is a good review in my books. Constructive criticism would be very helpful. **


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